


What the Future Brings

by tryslora



Series: And Omega Makes Family [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2265768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been two years since Jackson and Derek first got together. While they’ve come a long way, there are still decision to be made about their future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Future Brings

**Author's Note:**

> I um… yeah. I have no explanation for this, other than the prompt #83 at fullmoon of “future” suddenly meant “now” and “write this thing in this ‘verse you haven’t touched for months” so yeah… there we go. It's hard to believe that two years have passed for them, isn't it? Not nearly so long for me, writing it. Sorry I didn't get this cross-posted right away! As always, I do not own the world nor characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

Jackson has dinner on the table by the time Derek emerges from his study. Derek’s hair is tousled, the bits and pieces standing up as if he’s been running his hands through it for hours, and knowing how Derek’s creative process works, he probably has. It makes Jackson itch to do the same thing, comb his fingers through and groom him, helping to settle his mind.

Derek glances from the table with two place settings to the empty high chair. “Where’s Toby?”

“With my mom.” Jackson sets down the bottle of wine he grabbed from his mother’s house while he was there, then reaches into his pocket for an envelope and drops that on the table as well. “Her anniversary gift to us.”

“It hasn’t been a year yet.”

Jackson loves the way he can see thoughts trying to process as Derek comes back out of the world he’s sunk into. His brow is furrowed, dark eyebrows lowered. Jackson budges in close, touches his forehead to smooth the wrinkles. “Not since we got married. But it’s been two years since we first got together.” His palm comes to rest against Derek’s cheek. “So I thought we could take a weekend to celebrate.”

It takes a moment for it to click in, but he sees the moment it does, the way Derek’s eyes go wide, pupils big and dark. There’s a soft, low growl that goes straight to Jackson’s gut. “We’re alone until Sunday?”

Jackson smirks, his fingers drifting down, across Derek’s chest to his belt, curling around the buckle. “We’re completely on our own until Sunday,” he says. “Mom’s going to get some help from Lydia, since she’s done with her classes, and you and I are going to stay locked in this house until we are all fucked out.”

The growl goes louder, Derek’s mouth finding Jackson’s in a searing kiss. “Dinner can keep,” Derek murmurs against Jackson’s throat, sucking a mark to life quickly. “I want you naked.”

“Not yet.” This is the hardest part, especially with heat rising so quickly that it makes Jackson’s knees shake. “There’s something… _fuck_ , Derek.” He can’t keep talking, not with the way Derek has shoved his shirt up, tugged a nipple into his mouth. “ _Stop that_.”

“Why?” Derek pulls back, raises both eyebrows. “I’m your alpha, you’re in heat, and we have nothing to interrupt us.”

“This _first_.” Jackson pushes the envelope closer to Derek on the table. It’s only the first thing, but he wants to get it out of the way now, so it’s not hanging over his head. He wants to just enjoy this weekend with his husband, not be thinking about _life_.

Derek disengages, and Jackson whines a little to let him go. It gives him the chance to put several feet between them and catch his breath, willing his erection away even as his body readies itself for his alpha. It’s an odd dichotomy—desire and nerves as he watches Derek rip the envelope open with one claw and spill out the contents.

“What is this?” Derek’s voice is flat.

“A check.” As if that isn’t obvious. As if Derek can’t see the number and the name and the signature. “From my mom. For my schooling. She’s putting the rest into the trust it was supposed to be in, and I can get at anything I need for school or for Toby. I’m having her start a special account just for him, so he’ll have a trust of his own when he’s 18. And I get full control of my money when I’m 21, so I’ll be able to pick any law school I want. Hell, I could probably buy a law firm then.”

“Why?” Derek puts the torn envelope on the table, the check fluttering down on top of that. “We’ve got money. I’m supporting you.”

“And right now you’re trying to work two jobs between the day job to send me to school and the startup,” Jackson says. “This is a marriage. A _partnership_. And I _have money_ , or I would have if my dad hadn’t tried to completely disown me for a while. But that’s been reversed. This is _mine_ and I’m bringing it to _us_ and your name is on the trust as an executor. I trust you.” It had taken some convincing for him to get his mother to put Derek on as executor, but as Jackson points out, they’re married. This is his life now, not a typical twenty-year-old kid.

Derek stands stiffly, and Jackson can feel the frustration, can see it in every line of his body and the way his fist clenches. Jackson closes the distance between them, puts his hand over Derek’s heart. “Let me do something for us,” he says quietly. “Let me do something for _you_. You’re happier now that you’re working with Danny, Lydia and Stiles, but you’re still overworked. You’re exhausted, and now that things are better with my mom, I can handle my own finances. So let me do that. It’ll be good for both of us. And you can stop doing the job you hate and just focus on the one you love.”

Derek curls his hand around Jackson’s head, pulls him in close until Jackson stands with his head pillowed against Derek’s shoulder. He lets Derek groom him then, fingers lazily combing through his hair, stroking with light touch. “Okay,” Derek finally says. “Deposit it.”

“After this weekend. We’re busy until then.” Jackson nuzzles into Derek’s skin, sucking his own fleeting mark right above his collarbone. As Derek’s arms go around him, lifting him, Jackson admits, “We still have one more thing to talk about.”

And this is the more complicated one, instinct warring with reality and survival, and Jackson knows what he wants, but can’t figure out how to achieve it. He looks down at Derek, feeling like he’s hanging in midair with Derek supporting him. He brushes his lips against Derek’s, tastes the want and desire leaking through. It would be so _easy_ to just let go, hide in bed all weekend and figure it out later.

Except that _this_ weekend could mean that _later_ will have no choices at all.

“What this time?” Derek murmurs. “And can we talk in bed? Or at least get our asses upstairs and naked?”

“Talk first, sex after, but yes, stripping is fine.” Jackson starts moving as soon as Derek sets him on his feet, tossing clothes by the wayside as he goes. He leaves his boxers on because he has a feeling that if he doesn’t, talking is going to be impossible; as it is, he keeps remembering how close he is to losing total control and it picks away at his conscious thought.

He sits on the edge of the bed, touches the space next to him and waits for Derek to sit as well.

“What?” Derek asks, only the tone is gentler this time. Careful, as if he knows that what is coming isn’t easy for Jackson. And maybe he does, scenting the anxiety that surrounds him right now.

“We have a choice,” Jackson says quietly. He reaches out, wraps his fingers around Derek’s hands, holding on tight. “Right this second, we have a choice. Give us ten more minutes and that choice gets harder and harder to make with any kind of coherence, so we should talk about it first.”

“What are you trying to say, Jackson?” One eyebrow arches.

Jackson huffs a sigh, not at all sure how to say what he wants to say. “It’s impossible,” he says first, because it _is_. “We have an entire wall of pictures downstairs that reminds me how impossible it really is, and I can’t just creatively crop the reality of a pregnancy out of my _life_. It means staying away from everyone else. It means hiding, and screwing with my education, because if I show up in class I’m going to end up in pictures on some internet site about freaks. Men don’t get pregnant—that’s a reality in the human world.”

Derek’s thumb moves slowly across Jackson’s skin. He nods and waits, the silence stretching until Jackson continues.

“But I keep thinking about it.” Jackson licks his lips, tongue darting out to try to keep his mouth from going completely dry. “And I know you’d love it. I mean. You loved it the last time. I didn’t. In fact, I hate being fat. I hate being ungainly. I hate _waddling_ and not having any idea where my dick is unless I try to find it with my hand, and I could barely even do _that_ at the end. I hate the stretch marks, and I hated mirrors.” His breath shudders in his chest, because it’s all _true_. He hated the entire process of being pregnant, from beginning to end.

“But I love _you_ , and I love _Toby_.” Jackson squeezes Derek’s hands, willing him to understand. “And I loved the look in your eyes when you would look at me, that stupidly pleased _I’m the alpha, look what I did_ expression that you get. When you’d touch my stomach and Toby would move, and you’d just sit back pleased as punch because that was _yours_. Because I’m yours. And Toby is our fucking miracle. He’s a baby that shouldn’t even exist, and if he didn’t, we wouldn’t have all this. I would never have thought to give us a chance, because we weren’t _anything_ before Toby happened.”

He looks down to where he’s clutching at Derek’s hands, tries to figure out how to say anything else. “The thing is, I grew up alone. I don’t know if I had any siblings that went somewhere else when I was adopted. I don’t know anything, just that my parents adopted me when I was a baby, and that was it. They never tried for other kids—can you even imagine my mother being pregnant? They never adopted anyone else either. So I was alone. And dad worked, and mom had her charities, so I was really _alone_. I had Danny, and I had Lydia, and I made everyone else believe that I was the most important fucking thing in the universe because I didn’t want to be alone.

“And the thing is, Toby will never feel that alone, because he’s got us, and we’re not my parents.” That’s an important distinction in Jackson’s mind. “But he needs siblings, and he should have them when they’re still close enough in age to be friends. If he’s six or seven when we have another kid, he’s going to see them like they’re coming in late and taking us away. It’ll be war. But if we have one now, he’ll want to be the big brother. They’ll be two years apart, and they’ll fight like dogs, but at the same time, they’ll be friends someday. And they’ll always have that.” Jackson’s voice hitches. “They’ll always have each other.”

“You want to get pregnant.” Derek’s voice is low, the words careful.

“But if I do, what happens?” Jackson tilts his head to look at him, then looks away. “I don’t want to lose everything I’ve got. I’ve got this _life_ now, and I’m more than I used to be. I’m not just the asshole, or the captain of the lacrosse team. I’m not just your omega, and a pregnant man. I’m not just Toby’s dad. I’m all of that and I’m more, and we have _friends_ who aren’t in the pack and they won’t understand if I just disappear for nine months. How do we _do_ this?”

“We figure it out.” 

Jackson can’t believe it’s that simple, even though Derek is smiling as he lifts their joined hands, presses a kiss to Jackson’s fingertips.

“We figure it out,” Derek repeats. “We’ll find a way to keep you in school, and if I’m working at home and making my own hours, I’ll be able to both drop off and pick up Toby, so you won’t have to worry about running into the other parents. We’ll find ways to make excuses and it will work out. We can do this together, Jackson. If you want it.”

He can feel the ache starting, the sensation that means that he wants Derek more than ever _right now_ , and Jackson has a feeling he doesn’t have much longer to really be _coherent_ about the decision. “I want it,” he says firmly. “So let’s enjoy it this time, Derek. Let’s get pregnant on purpose.”

Derek growls softly as he twists, pushing Jackson back as his eyes flash brightly. Jackson arches up under him, pulls him close, and lets go of his worries and reservations.

Whatever the future brings, Derek is right: they’ll face it together.

That’s something Jackson can believe in.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
